


Just for Tonight

by sophinisba



Category: The Faculty (1998), Torchwood
Genre: Crossover, Drabble Sequence, Drugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-06
Updated: 2008-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-05 21:10:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophinisba/pseuds/sophinisba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not a fluffy crossover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just for Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Aprilkat, thanks to claudia603 for betaing.

Casey keeps that part of himself to himself, most of the time. Wouldn't be any good for his reputation if he went around talking about aliens, so he saves it for those rare trips home and the times he can grab lunch with Delilah, coffee with Stokely, a night with Zeke in one city or another. Every once in a while there's someone who remembers him from the Time cover or some website, and Casey always just says, "That was a long time ago. The planet's in real danger now. Let's talk about what we can do to change that."

***

Then one night after another conference there's another American at the hotel bar who smiles at Casey and looks him in the eye, not like he knows about him but like he actually knows him. He won't talk about climate change, only wants to hear about Casey. And Casey likes being looked at and listened to that way, so much he decides he doesn't care what this Jack guy finds out. It's not like it's a reporter or another scientist. Hell, he'll be out of here tomorrow and he'll never see this guy again. He lets go. He tells all.

***

When he's done he adds, "I suppose you think I'm crazy now, huh?"

And Jack takes his hand and says, "If you're crazy then so am I and so are all my friends. I know aliens are real. I fight them every day."

Casey wants to laugh but the guy is far too sincere. Casey squeezes his hand back and before he knows it he's falling forward, onto his feet, steadied by a strong hand on his forearm, another at his back. The Jack's face is almost touching his. His breath is warm on Casey's cheek, and Casey breathes, "Upstairs."

***

Casey meant to wait till they get to his room, but Jack starts touching him as soon as the elevator doors close, and again Casey finds he doesn't care to resist. He sees himself in the mirror looking flushed and passive, the blood rushing to his head as Jack kisses him hard just under his jaw. And Jack is like the man Casey used to look for in the mirror, so many years ago – same dark hair, pale skin, bright blue eyes, but a harder shape to his face and a confident way of moving, like a man in charge.

***

The positions are the same, but fucking with Jack is nothing like getting fucked by Zeke. There's no smirk, no ridicule, no pretense that they don't care. Everything Jack does is careful, purposeful, and Casey stops telling himself it won't matter in the morning. He's not thinking about the aliens or the future, the planet or the rest of his life. All he wants is to stay here, in this room, with this man gripping his shoulders to bruise, sucking his neck to raise welts, pounding into his ass. Casey comes screaming, and Zeke couldn't be further from his mind.

***

 

"Are you looking for a job, Casey?"

Jack had held him for a long time and then gone for towels and a glass of water. Casey was thinking it's nice being cared for, thinking he could get used to this, and he's so unprepared for the question that he half chokes.

"What?" he says, when he can.

"Don't you want to work with people who understand how much more there is to the world?"

Casey squirms away, covers up, shouts, "Is this your idea of a fucking job interview, you freak?" because he knows how much that word can hurt.

***

"Okay, okay." Jack's vowels sound overly flat, and for the first time Casey wonders if the accent is fake. "Just relax. Drink some more water."

He goes for another glass to replace the one Casey spilled.

"You knew who I was. You planned this."

"I knew I wanted to hire you. I didn't know I wanted this" – his hands indicate the room, the bed, their still naked bodies – "until I met you."

"I have a job. What I do is important."

"Forget I said anything." They're reaching for their clothes. "I'll go. You'll never have to think about me again."

***

That seems unlikely until five minutes later when Casey stops in the middle of a sentence, unsure what he was trying to say. He looks at the empty glass.

"You drugged me? On top of everything else you drugged me?"

"Only after everything else. So we won't have to worry later about what we said tonight."

Casey's angrier than ever but too tired now to sit up, let alone fight or run away. Jack catches him, helps him lie down, and speaks in his ear the only words he'll remember in the morning: "You're not crazy, Casey. I believe you."


End file.
